I. Can’t. Breathe.
“W-Why don’t you?” I whisper.
“Because you’re…” He seems to forget how to speak when I’m hit by an unexpected surge of confidence and grip his collar. I see his Adam’s apple bob.
“I’m what?” I whisper.
He leans in, but seconds before we ditch the rules, he shakes his head, as though he’s just come to his senses, and pulls back.
“Because you’re Kendrick’s sister… We can never happen.”
His rejection cuts me to the bone. One second he’s letting me in, telling me exactly what I want to hear, and the next, I’m back to where we started.
One step forward, five steps back.
“Are you even listening to yourself? How can you say that after you just said you have feelings for me?”
“Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter what I goddamn feel, Kass. We’re stuck. We can never be more than this.”
Screw it. I’ll play the eager chick if I have to.
“Why the hell not?” I blare. “What’s stopping us? Kendrick? He’d get over it.”
“No, he wouldn’t. You didn’t see how pissed he got when Blake made one, tiny comment about you that one time. You know he only agreed to let you go out with Alex because he’s a fucking saint compared to the rest of us. He made it clear. No touching his sister. That’s his only rule, Kass. And I can’t break it.”
My throat hurts.
“Well, you already did,” I remind him. “Over and over.”
Guilt crosses his face.
He heads for the door. “This conversation is pointless. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Says who?” I screech.
“Says the shit ton of alcohol running in your veins. You can’t make your own decisions right now.” He opens the door. “I’ll go get you a glass of water. Get changed.”
Stunned, I watch him thump down the stairs. Well, that went well.
Squeezing out of my dress, I throw on an oversized white T-shirt and gray shorts before letting the ache in my chest guide me out of my room. I wander around the halls aimlessly. I don’t have the slightest idea of where I’m going. Yet, my feet come to an abrupt stop in front of my brother’s room.
He’s still at Blake’s. He’d freak if he saw me in here. I twist the knob and barge in, flicking the light on and wincing at the mess. Dirty clothes all over the floor, a smelly, empty pizza box on his desk. Boys will be boys. At least his bed is made. Even gone, he’s affecting my life. He’s always been the first choice. The one who mattered. The priority. With Blake. With my fucking dad.
With everyone.
And now… It’s happening all over again with Will. In all fairness, it wouldn’t hurt for you to stop going after his friends. I know this one’s on me. I’ve made my bed. Time to lie in it.
Will’s voice echoes in my head. You can’t make your own decisions right now. He still sees me as Kendrick’s little sister. Poor, defenseless Kass. He needs to stop.
I’ll make him stop.
“What the hell are you doing?”
He’s standing in the doorway, a glass of water in hand.
“Oh, you know, just making my own decisions.”
He sighs. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“No.”
“No?” he repeats as if he misheard me.
“You heard me. I’m making the decision to stay here.” I begin shuffling through Kendrick’s stuff: the cheap trophy he won at soccer when he was a kid, the baseball he used to throw around with my dad, the math book collecting dust on his desk.
“Kass, let’s go,” Will presses.
“See? I can make my own decisions. I can choose to do this.” I pick up the trophy, chucking it to the ground. Will winces. “And this.” I give the dirty clothes on the ground a kick. “I’m free as free as a bird, Willy. The only person who can’t see that is you.”
“I said let’s go,” he scolds, venturing inside the room and seeking to catch my arm, which I throw out of reach.
“I can do this.” I continue making a mess of Kendrick’s stuff. Not that my brother will notice. “And this.”
Irritated, Will slams the glass down on the nightstand and shuts the door. Probably to snap my head off without waking Winter. This time, he successfully snatches my wrist into his hand. Our bodies collide. I don’t say a word, defiance devouring me as my fingers trail down his chest tentatively.
He holds his breath.
He just said it.
He said he feels it, too. That he’s attracted to me, and I sure as hell am going to use that to my advantage.
“But, you see, the best part about making my own decisions is… that I can do this.”
I don’t wait for my common sense to kick in. For wise Kass to take the reins. I push to my tiptoes, grab his collar, and crash my mouth to his. His lips are warm, soft—welcoming. At first, I consider the absence of a rejection a good sign.
Then I realize something.
He’s not kissing me back.
I just forced myself on him. What in the fuck is wrong with me? Ashamed, I back away, babbling a squeaky “I’m so sorry.” His blue eyes are dark, unreadable. He doesn’t accept nor acknowledge my apology, staring at me in shock. I search his features for a clue as to what might be going on in that messy head of his.
Nothing.
He gives me nothing.
His reaction seems to take forever when in reality, it’s pretty quick. He shakes his head, jerks me back to him, and kisses me again.
Harder.
Deeper.
He did what?
His mouth comes down on mine roughly, blaming me for snipping his already thin resolve. This is all your fault, his lips accuse. I tried to do the right thing. Now it’s too late. Our kiss is just as heated, if not more, than the one we shared at the tree house. We barely pull away for air, reluctant to part for a split second. Is he scared, too? Scared that we’ll wake up and
